Teetering Around Forever
by MirkatManor
Summary: AU One-Shot: Dean and Castiel have lived most of their lives together: almost forever. Picture credit goes to the fabulous pinkbomberjacket.


"I think I want to make out with your face." Dean said.

"I think you should." Cas replied.

Alright, well that's just a choice selection of dialogue from their exchanges. There's more. Oh, so much more. Infinite amounts, really. That's all they'd ever done: talk. You could see any number of words they'd said to one another throughout what seemed like an eternity of friendship. Not that, that's a bad thing. It's just been a while. It has _seriously _been a while. It's been forever. Well, as forever as 'forever' can be with two sixteen-year-olds. And that's not very close to forever, after all.

If you're looking for something a bit closer to 'forever', maybe you should take a look at their fiftieth anniversary. Seeing that they got together soon after those words, this fifty year anniversary takes place soon after their, respective, sixty-sixth birthdays. And, yes, the anniversary celebrates their relationship that they managed to maintain. Through teenage hormones, through good times and bad, they realized they were better together. And they both figured themselves pretty lucky to be. There's cake, family, cake being smeared on family's faces, and lots of happiness. They could still make each other ridiculously, stupidly happy. Again, they were pretty lucky. It's a bit like a wedding, which is strange considering they'd impulsively eloped nearly forty years ago. Turns out, it was one of the best, most idiotic decisions they'd ever made. And, if you ask Cas to this day, he insists the act was _spontaneous. _

Or, perhaps, you enjoyed their distance to be far from a true forever. There's plenty of that, too. They met in preschool, The Rainbow Room. Dean figured it was a bit ironic, but awesomely so. Cas had forgotten a blanket at home. But not just any blanket, _his blanket. _Not his brothers', or his sister's, it was _his. _And he'd managed to forget the only thing he had that was really _his. _And, as any reasonable preschooler would do, he began to cry. A lot. Blue eyes forming an ocean that leaked down his cheeks, another boy waddled up to him, his walking still a bit weak for a four-year-old.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, a bit of a lisp forming around his words.

"My _blanky_!" Castiel yelled, crying more.

"What about it?" The kid was getting more concerned.

"It's not here!"

"Where is it?"

"On my bed!"

"They have lots more," He pointed to a bin, overflowing with blankets. "they're over there."

"Those aren't mine!"

"Well if you want one, you gotta go get one."

"They're not special!"

"Tell ya' what... I have mine with me. It's not yours. It's mine. My blanket is mine kinda like your blanket is yours. You get it?"

"Nuh-uh."

"If my blanket's special to me like your blanket's special to you, then my blanket's special to you too, right?"

He nodded frantically.

"And you wanted a blanket that's special to you."

Castiel put his thumb into his mouth, sucking on it out of habit.

"What if we shared mine?"

He plopped himself down on the comfortably padded ground, and settled on his side. The other boy moved next to him, and placed his nose inches away from Castiel's face. He tossed the blanket atop their bodies, and Castiel felt pleasantly warm. He suddenly noticed something tickling his foot, adjusting himself down, he found a stained white tag brushing against his skin. It read 'Dean' in big, black letters.

"Dean?" He wondered aloud.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Castiel."

"Nice to meet you, Cas."

They fell asleep in the same position that day as they did on the night of their anniversary.

They didn't forget the blanket though. No, they certainly did not. After that day, Cas 'forgot' his blanket every day. They began taking their daily naps together. Even when they weren't together, Dean would cuddle with it every night, until he was no longer at a socially acceptable age to do so. And even then, he was pushing it. At that point he put it in his closet. It may not have been always visible, but it was always there, and never forgotten.

They were seventeen the night that they first slept in the same bed. Dean thought it was just as good as the floor they'd shared, if not a little better. They always seemed to sleep in the same position. It felt natural to the both of them. It was instinctual, and it always had been. Their faces would hover so close to the other's, steady breath serving as a constant reminder of their mutual presence.

The blanket flew out of the closet along with a crib, toys, and countless blue onesies. The papers had gone through, and, today, they returned with their six-month-old baby boy.

Dean crossed his own name out from the tag and wrote 'Kyle' in similar black letters.

"You ready?" Cas asked.

"If symbolic resonance means anything to you, then yeah, I think I am." He smiled.

Dean couldn't help but notice how comfortable he looked, wrapped up in that blanket.

Kyle, now a two-and-a-half-year-old spazz ball of unadulterated energy, ran across the kitchen, wearing the blanket as a cape around his neck. He, none-too-gracefully, bumped into Cas' legs.

"Ugh!" Kyle exclaimed, suddenly laughing hysterically.

"Hey there, buddy!" Cas said, picking up his son, minding the soft material gliding down his back.

"Daddy, I'm a superhero!"

"Yes you are! Do you have a superpower?"

"Duh!"

Well, it _was _obvious.

"What's your superpower?"

"I can read minds!"

"Really? What am I thinking?" He asked.

After a moment's contemplation, Kyle perked up. "I can read _Papa's_ mind." He concluded.

"Then what's _Papa _thinking?" Cas asked, gesturing to where Dean stood across the room.

"He's thinking that he wants to be your superhero."

"What?"

"He's thinking that you're the Lois Lane to his Superman, the Pepper Potts to his Iron Man, the Mary Jane to his Spiderman," He looked to his Papa. "but with a penis."

"Kyle!" Cas yelled.

"Would you really rather he left that part out?" Dean smiled.

"Don't say that word, pal. Okay?" Cas requested to the boy in his arms.

"Papa told me to!" Kyle pointed to Dean.

"That's not true! You read my mind!" He plead, but to no avail.

"Dean, no TV for the rest of the night."

Dean laughed, until he realized that Cas was not joking.

"Oh, come on!"

They were eighteen now. It was summer time. Crickets were sounding endlessly behind them, filling the night with their calls. It was just humid enough to be warm, but not too much so to be uncomfortable. Cas was nuzzling into Dean's chest as the night sky continued in an infinite expanse in front of their eyes.

This was the closest Cas felt to his own forever. Gazing up into the sky, seeing the stars, many of whom's forevers had already come and gone. It made him feel like a fixed point. In this moment, he could always be found.And there was nothing he enjoyed more than having Dean with him so they could be fixed together. Now, he could always be found with Dean.

He felt the man he rested on shift his stomach and take a deep breath in and out. Cas wrapped his arm around Dean's chest, moving his thumb soothingly on his side. Dean leaned down to kiss Cas' hair. He moved to his forehead, then his nose, then his cheek, and finally, they were kissing.

This wasn't a bad moment to be in forever.

_END_


End file.
